Something To Do While We're Waiting

Let's think of something to do while we're waiting While we're waiting for something new to do. Let's try to think up a song while we're waiting That's liberating and will be true to you. Let's think of something to do while we're waiting While we're waiting 'til something's through. You know it's really all right; In fact, it's downright quite bright To think of something to do That's specific for you. Let's think of something to do while we're waiting.

© 1982

This is pretty much my theme song right now.  Just 26 days left until my due date and I am mostly just looking for something to do while we're waiting.  Never mind that I don't really "believe" in due dates.  My first pregnancy, at the end of which Ginny had to be forceably evicted, left me skeptical of such concrete deadlines.  Anyone who's ever known a baby knows that babies do not respect deadlines.  Still, a girl's got to have something to look forward to.

So then, what to do while we're waiting?  We have toured the OB floors at the hospital and preregistered for... whenever.  The gender-neutral onsies and sleepers are washed and folded.  My hospital bag is packed.  Baby necessities are ready and waiting to be thrown into my purse.  The crib sheets are on (with a blanket spread over them, just in case Alice and Cora decide to use it for a cat-nap).  Speaking of Cora, the changing station is ready for business, and given the irresistible coziness of this changing pad cover, I'm shocked that I haven't caught her laying here before now.  I suspect her interest in this area will decrease dramatically once the "business" begins. 

We have even (almost. maybe) decided on names.  Still, the car seat isn't installed yet, despite my having dreamed that we rush off to the hospital without it.  And I should probably pack an overnight bag for Ginny so I'm not rushing around at the last minute trying to find socks that match and clothes without chocolate milk stains.  Something to do!  I'm glad we had this talk.

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The Greatest Show on Earth

When I was 5 or 6 years old, my family and I went to The Greatest Show on Earth in Memphis, where I saw, and fell in love with the incredible Dolly Jacobs.



For goodness knows how long afterward, I flipped and twisted and spun on the rings of my backyard swing set, practicing and performing my own mid-air acrobatics for anyone who would watch, finishing always with a flourish, and a dramatic, "TADA!"  My grandparents, fortunately, were a willing and appreciative audience.  I wanted to BE Dolly Jacobs.  I still kind of want to be Dolly Jacobs. 

This weekend we took Ginny to the circus in Nashville, and it was every bit as breath-taking as I remembered.  If I didn't love my life so much, I would have been sorely tempted to run away to join them.

 Waiting for the show to start, and enjoying The Most Expensive Cotton Candy on Earth.

So many things going on at once. The circus is perfectly controlled, choreographed chaos.

They had real, live mermaids!

I love the tigers.  They remind me of our two cats at home.  Except that I don't have to continually bribe Alice and Cora with bits of raw meat on a stick to prevent them from eating me in front of a live audience.

 

Not long after this, the batteries in my camera died, and naturally I had no spares.  Otherwise, you would now be seeing pictures of bearded ladies, feats of strength and dexterity, llamas, super heroes, and the cutest baby elephant since Dumbo.  If you'd like to see more of Barnum's FUNundrum, click here.  You won't be disappointed. 

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Christmas at Home

A starfish stands in for the Christmas star.

Frosting "Happy Birthday, Jesus" cupcakes with Granny.

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Under My Feet

I love my cats.  But sometimes Alice does things like this.

Apparently, she loves the feel of this mat under her feet as much as I do.  This is the second one of these she's shredded and I am just not ready to shell out another $10 for a new one, knowing that it will meet the same ugly end.  So I got creative.

That's right.  The Cadillac of Craft Media.  There wasn't much in this jar, so I just poured out what was left onto the mat and smeared it around with my hands.  If you're having a bad day, I highly recommend this.  Forget finger-painting.

I had just enough fabric left from the quilt I used to make my cafe curtains to recover the mat.  After I washed and dried my hands, I spread the fabric over the mat and smoothed out the wrinkles.

Then I used an Exacto knife to trim the excess fabric from around the edges.  At some point in the near future I should probably put a couple of coats of spray poly on this to make wiping drips and spills a little easier (This is the kitchen, after all.) but I'm pretty happy.  Anything's better than this:

Sorry I didn't think to sweep my floor.

 I did scrub the sink, though.  You're welcome.

Linked up with Made It Monday on The Persimmon Perch.

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Until Spring Comes

For now I'll have to be content with a teacup's worth of green.  See that brave little sprout curling out near the handle?  I can't wait to see what that's going to be.  I cover it with a glass cloche to keep the moisture in and the kitties out. 

"Me?  I wouldn't dream of it!"

I was inspired by a post on thrift store terrariums by Shopping Golightly, one of The Thrifty Chicks.  What a fantastic blog that is.  If you're at all interested in thrifting, be sure to pay them a visit.  Here are some other lovely examples done in glass jars, from Apartment Therapy.

 

AT post by Laure Joliet

 

AT post by Susie Nadler, images Stephen Orr

Just look at these charmingly simple ones from Design Sponge (with instructions on how to make your own). 

images by Amy Merrick

 There's also a fine tutorial on woodland terrariums from the January 2010 issue of LIVING at MarthaStewart.com.

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Is it even worth it?

So, yeah. We have this couch. Loveseat, actually. Would you believe my parents found this by the side of the highway? They passed it up on the way into town and when they saw it was still there when they headed home, they picked it up. The arms were ripped and the wood trim along the top was scraped. My mom and dad's guess was that it fell off someone's truck as they were driving and either they didn't notice (Who doesn't notice a couch falling out the back of their truck?) or decided they didn't want it anymore once they saw the surprisingly minimal damage. Other than those two things the couch was pretty much new. Good cushions. Good springs. Upholstery in good condition- though not exactly my taste. My crafty Mommy cut fabric from the undersides of the cushions and used it to patch the torn arms and even managed to sew a couple of matching pillows, to boot. She also sanded down the wood and rubbed on a little stain so that the damage there is virtually unnoticeable.

Fast-forward 8 (Really?) years. For some reason our darling kitties love to scratch this thing. You may notice the attractive duct tape on the front corners, there. I put that over their favorite scratching spots, in an attempt to discourage that behavior. Turns out cats don't care if there is duct tape over their favorite scratching spots. They just scratch the tape. At least mine do. When Ginny started crawling I'd find her clutching bits of stuffing from the couch in her little fists- or worse- in her mouth. Did I mention this thing is in her bedroom?

Which brings me to my dilemma. I've been tossing around the idea of reupholstering this piece myself for years. But there are some problems.

Problem #1- Do I really even want to keep it? I attempted to give it away- as in FREE- on Craigslist, and after a month I'd had no response, so I took the listing off. On one hand, it takes up valuable space in a room that is pretty small. On the other hand, it does serve a purpose. Ginny loves to sit there when we read together, and it is more comfortable to sit on the loveseat than on her bed with the 37 stuffed animals that must be there. So realistically, it is probably going to stay. All the more reason for me to want to recover it. Pink & blue plaid definitely does not "go" in her room. And stuff that doesn't "go" cannot be tolerated. Am I right?

Problem #2- Can I actually do it? Can I do a decent job using hot glue and a staple gun? Because I'm afraid my sewing machine is just a little too finicky for a project like this. I mean, if I started something like this on that machine one of us might wind up dead. Or, at the very least, seriously wounded.

Problem #3- Can I do it without spending a lot of $$$ on upholstery fabric? I'm actually pretty sure I've solved this one already. 3 Words- CANVAS DROP CLOTHS. I have seen some impressive things done with these, and I'm convinced this is the way to go. A HUGE one is only about $15. With careful cutting, I might be able to get away with one really big one and one smaller one. Not convinced that painter's drop cloths are good for anything but keeping drips off your hardwood floors? Take a look at these ideas:

Leah, at Apartment Therapy, shares how she transformed a fireplace mantle into an elegant headboard- complete with an upholstered panel covered with a canvas drop cloth.

Download templates to stencil your own drop cloth rug, courtesy of Martha. I remember when this was in LIVING and I was thrilled to find the instructions on their website. I might have to do one of these for my back porch...

Layla, at The Lettered Cottage, used canvas drop cloths as drapes in her lovely dining room, to fantastic effect. This girl has "the knack," I tell you, and her cottage is wall-to-wall inspiration.

After seeing The Vintage Chica's sweet embroidered and appliqued drop cloth tablecloth, I'm thinking there's no reason you couldn't also use a drop cloth as a simple bedspread. Stencil it. Embroider it. Applique it. I bet it would even take dye pretty well once it was washed. But I'm getting sidetracked, aren't I? What was I talking about?

Oh yeah. The couch. So, do you think it would work?

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Catching Up

I haven't been in a very "bloggy" mood of late. I haven't been doing much crafting, with the exception of this Pup and his cozy sweater. Pup was fashioned from a pair of gloves and the sweater is made from one of my old holey socks. His sleeves are a little long, but can be rolled up should the need arise. I also made the topiary- but not recently. Two styrofoam balls, a bag of dyed Spanish moss, some floral foam to go in the pot, a stick from the yard, hot glue, and not a few burnt fingers. I did not make the cat.

Just after New Year's I got on a sort of labeling kick. I cleaned out, reorganized and labeled my kitchen cupboards, and attempted to bring some order to my sadly under-shelved craft closet. I considered buying a fancy labeler, but in the end I used a Sharpie and a pack each of nametag stickers (not the "HELLO My Name Is... ones) and those tiny ones you'd use to price things for a yard sale. They worked great for relabeling the jars in my spice rack. I also made use of the fairly large collection of jars I've accumulated. I never throw a glass jar away anymore, if only because I enjoy the look of pantry staples in jars instead of cardboard boxes.



I love those little clementine crates. I don't think I've ever thrown one away, and I never have any trouble finding things to fill them with when all the clementines have been eaten (roughly 24 hours after they enter the house).

Finally, following my post proclaiming my love of paint chips, my super cool interior-designer-cousin, Sarah, sent me my very own paint deck! I will spare you the details of how unnaturally excited I was to receive such a gift. It will suffice to say that I have been wandering around color-matching everything in the entire house. Just look at those colors!

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My Little Runaway

Of our two cats, Alice is definitely the "Cat Most Likely to Try to Get Out When the Door Is Opened." Every once in a while she makes a run for it, but she's never gone far. Usually she gets to the garage, realizes what a big, big world it is out there, and crouches down making it easy to catch her.

Monday night I went out to the garage to get some food for them, and as I expected, Alice was waiting at the kitchen door when I came back in. I attempted the usual blocking technique, but she hurdled my leg and made her escape. She paused at the porch steps and when I called to her, she looked back at me, then decided she wasn't ready to come in and off she went. I followed, slowly, hoping she'd stop so I could grab her, but she ran around the side of the garage. It was pitch black out, and probably 40 degrees. Once she rounded the corner I couldn't see her anymore. I rushed into the garage to grab a flashlight or one of our camp lanterns, and when I couldn't get my hands on one right away, I went inside to tell Travis that she was out and get him to come help me look for her. About the time he came outside, and I headed out across the yard with a lantern, I turned back toward the house and saw her jump up onto the porch. The door was still open and she ran inside. I guess it wasn't as fun out there as she imagined it would be. I think she was a little freaked out by her adventure, because Alice kept hissing and trying to start a fight with Cora, so we had to keep them apart for a little while.

As I was peering into the darkness, looking for my little runaway, I was reminded of the opening passages of a children's book by Garrison Keillor, called Cat You Better Come Home:

My cat pleaded and my cat cried
For me to open up the door and let her go outside.
Then she sat on the lawn underneath a tree
Pretending that she couldn't hear me
As I said, "CAT, YOU BETTER COME HOME!
There's dogs in the dark waiting to attack
And cat hawks looking for a late-night snack,
so CAT YOU BETTER COME HOME."
Puff looked away and tossed her head-
"I may or may not come," she said.

Puff does not, in fact, come inside, but rather ventures out into the world, where she becomes quite rich and famous. In the end, though, after months of rich living, Puff comes limping home in the rain, fat and sloppy, and is- of course- received with love and forgiveness. I'm glad it didn't take all that for Alice to realize what a good thing she's got. Perhaps she recalled Puff's words,

"If other cats could only know
To hang their hats on the status quo,
And make the best of what they've got,
And be who you are and not what you're not.
For the very worst thing a cat can do
Is to make all its dreams come true."

Wise counsel, indeed.

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